


Dearly Beloved

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/F, Femslash, From Dusk till Dawn: Harry/Severus Fuh-Q-Fest, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3105956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter's getting married in the morning.or is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dearly Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> The scenario is based on one from the earlier Dusk-to-Dawn waves, challenge 135: The evening before Harry is to wed another (deciding to live up to expectations of wizarding world instead of following his heart and coming out of the closet), when Snape shows up at his bachelor party plans begin to change as the evening progresses. (ProfSnapeFan)
> 
> Any similarities to "In & Out" are partly coincidence, and partly because you just can't do this kind of scene without the some similarities coming out. OotP Spoilers - just vague ones, nothing specific.

Part One: Snape 

Severus Snape saw the invitation the minute he unlocked his bin at the post office and looked inside. It was hard to miss the bloody thing, after all. The envelope was bright blue in color, and about nine inches square, and it dominated the more mundane offerings. Irritably, he wondered why the International Postal Standards Committee of 1813 had decided on _blue_ for wedding announcements. _Probably to annoy the recipients of the dratted things, as if the thought of having to waste galleons on an expensive trinket that would sit in the back of the newlyweds' closet wasn't annoying enough,_ he thought nastily. 

For a moment, he was tempted to throw the blasted thing into the rubbish bin. However, he had to admit that he was curious as to who would be sending him, Severus Snape, an invitation to a _wedding_. Rather like inviting the Wicked Fairy to the Royal Christening, he thought with a smirk, and found he liked that simile. So he tucked the envelope into his haversack with the rest of the monthly accumulation of mail, careful not to disturb the bottle from the chemist's, picked up his walking stick, and started toward home. 

It was a long walk from the village of Glen Gavinny to the cottage that he now called home, but it was a journey that he actually enjoyed. The walk gave him time to think of many things: his latest experimental potion, the new manuscript, the mysterious invitation in his mail.... He walked briskly but carefully, enjoying the vigorous exercise that warmed his chilled bones. Although it was early May, this high up into the hills it was still cold in the shadows, and the late rains had turned the roads into rivers of mud. 

It couldn't be from one of his former Slytherin students. The only one he'd been on decent terms with had been Draco Malfoy, and that was solely for political expediency. Draco Malfoy had died six years earlier, in one of the battles leading up to the Final Battle. The one in while Harry Potter had finally fulfilled the Prophecy and dispatched Lord Voldemort - for good, this time. Many of his Slytherins had died in that final battle, on both sides of the fighting, and the few who'd survived were either in Azkaban or had married years ago. It was doubtful that any members of the other Houses would have sent him an invitation to their wedding, and he hadn't been on good enough terms with the Hogwarts' staff for any of them to include him in the festivities. There had been one brief friendship - dare he call it romance? - forged during the desperate skirmishes, but that, too, had ended years ago. By the time he reached the cottage, he hadn't managed to solve the riddle, and he had to admit that it was vexing him severely. 

Despite his curiosity, he went about his customary tasks. The cottage was carefully checked for signs of intruders before he entered, and then the door and wards were secured behind him, keeping out unwelcome visitors. He set the heavy haversack on the kitchen table with particular care before he removed his heavy outerwear and boots to keep from tracking the spring mud into the house. He did a quick but thorough check of the interior of the cottage to make sure nothing was amiss. It didn't take long as there was only the main room, kitchen/workroom, bedroom, and bath, although he'd thought about adding a spare room in the early years. Back when he thought he might actually _have_ a guest or two. 

Once he'd completed his rounds, he returned to the haversack and began unpacking it in his usual methodical manner. The mail was set aside till later, while he took care of the more important tasks. Carefully, he unpacked the precious bottles from the chemist's. Tins of fruit, vegetables, and potted meats came next, and were carefully stored in the pantry, as was a new loaf of bread and boxes of assorted dry goods. Perishables like meat and cheese were placed in the cold box, then the pack was folded up and carefully stored away until next time. 

Snape delayed further as he fixed a cup of tea to his liking and lit a fire in the wood stove, and then he sat down at the table with the stack of mail. Dozens of advertisements from suppliers of everything from cauldrons to potions' ingredients were tossed in the kindling box - he had used the same suppliers for years, and he had no intention of transferring his business elsewhere. He set the latest issues of the periodicals he subscribed to by his favorite chair to be read at his leisure. A letter from his publisher was quickly scanned and set aside; he'd need to do his books later that evening, but he was reasonably pleased with the income from his latest publication. 

And now there was nothing left except that intriguing and infuriating blue envelope. He touched it with his wand, triggering the message, and was surprised to hear Molly Weasley's voice echo through his kitchen. 

*Mr. And Mrs. Arthur Weasley  
Request the Honour of your Presence  
On the occasion of the marriage of their daughter, Ginny,  
To  
Mr. Harry James Potter  
On Saturday the ...* 

Snape drew in a sharp breath as a painful ringing filled his ears, drowning out the drone of Molly Weasley's voice as she proceeded to give details about the time and place of the ceremony in her inanely cheerful voice. 

_Harry Potter - getting married?_

It wasn't impossible, he supposed. People got married every day, even Heroes of the Wizarding World. Merlin knew that there must be a dozen women throwing themselves at him _daily_ \- but the _Weasley_ girl? He'd thought the irritating brat had more taste than that! 

Besides, he knew for a fact - based on personal experience - that Harry Potter was as queer as a two-galleon coin. 

The voice had stopped droning and the invitation was hovering expectantly, waiting for his response. His first inclination was to give an emphatic "No!", but then he caught sight of a small card that had fallen from the envelope onto the table, and he picked it up. 

It was an invitation to a bachelor party, hosted by the wretched girl's brother, and he would have torn _that_ into pieces and then burned it, except that there was a handwritten note on the bottom of the card - writing that was very familiar to him after seven years teaching Potter plus three years working alongside him against Voldemort. Three years spent with him as lovers - or rather, engaging in infrequent and brief sexual couplings whenever they could snatch the time to be together. Except that it had been more intense than mere sex, and not only a way of affirming that they were alive in the midst of death. 

_Please come. I must talk to you. Please._

Snape drew in a deep breath. He knew that he was going to regret this, knew it with every fiber of his being, and yet he could no more deny that plea than he could order himself to stop breathing. 

"Yes," he said aloud. The invitation quivered, dropped a smaller version of itself (complete with Apparating instructions on the back) onto the tabletop, and disappeared in a puff of blue smoke that smelled revoltingly like lavender perfume. Only the mental image of Molly Weasley's startled face when she received his R.S.V.P. kept him from Apparating to the Burrows and hexing her where she stood. 

That, and the time, he thought, swearing as he caught sight of the date of the Bachelor party. It was for _tonight_ , an hour from now. He'd have to hurry like hell if he was going to get cleaned up and changed, or he'd never make it on time. 

* * *

The party was in full swing when he arrived, only half an hour late. For a moment, he stood in the doorway watching the antics of the crowd with a mixture of disgust and amusement. It was apparent that the firewhisky was flowing freely - even more apparent that most of the idiots there couldn't hold their drink. 

He looked around the room and caught sight of the party's host. It seemed that Ron Weasley had been leading the assault on the alcohol as he appeared to have lost what little sense he'd ever had. He looked to be demonstrating some Quidditch move from the top of a table, while several other young men argued heatedly with each other about the legality of the move. Scattered among the throng of inebriated young men were faces he recognized from years of teaching, but either they didn't recognize him or they were too drunk to believe that their evil Potions master was here, of all places. He momentarily considered giving them the scare of their lives by announcing his presence, and then regretfully decided against it. He had much bigger fish to catch. 

He didn't see Potter anywhere at first, but then a slight movement on the balcony outside the main room caught his attention. Quietly he skirted the room, careful not to draw any attention, and stepped outside. 

"Hello, Harry." 

The young man leaning on the balcony railing turned around and gave him a frankly appraising look and then smiled. He returned the look, surprised to see that Harry had filled out nicely during the past five years. It was no doubt due to the intense training that had made him the World's top Seeker for the past three years, and Snape admired the results. Harry had grown out his hair, too, and apparently had had his eyesight fixed. Oddly enough, Snape missed those horrible glasses and the way they had made those brilliant green eyes look so vulnerable. There was nothing vulnerable about this boy - no, young man - standing in front of him. 

Harry brushed the hair out of his eyes and smiled at him. "Hello, Severus. I was beginning to worry that you weren't coming." 

Snape shrugged. "I didn't receive the invitation, or your note, until today. I must say that I was...surprised." 

Harry's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "What, at rating an invitation to my wedding?" 

"At the fact that there was going to _be_ a wedding." 

"Yes, well..." Harry turned back to the balcony, looking over the small garden tucked behind the restaurant. Snape felt the tingle of a Silencing charm being cast around them and frowned, wondering just what was going on. Something serious, or Harry wouldn't be worried about being overheard. 

Harry took a deep breath. "I wanted to tell you personally, before you read it in the _Daily Prophet_..." 

"Unlikely, as I no longer subscribe to the _Prophet_ ," Snape said dryly. He had never liked their insinuations that he wasn't a true Hero of the War just because he'd been a spy. Not that he cared much for being called a hero - it was just the principle of the thing. 

"...or you hear about it from somewhere else," Harry doggedly continued. "Ginny Weasley's having my baby." 

Snape blinked. This news was even more surprising than the wedding announcement. "I didn't think you even played that side of the field." 

"I don't," Harry said shortly. 

Snape raised an eyebrow, regarding Harry as if he were one of his idiot students again. "You obviously _do_ , Potter, at least did once. Or have you forgotten your elementary biology?" 

Harry sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "I don't, and I haven't. Ever. Ginny was artificially inseminated. It's Muggle medicine, a way to make a woman pregnant without sex. Sometimes it's used with couples that can't have children the usual way, and sometimes it's used by single women or gay couples that want to have a baby. I donated the sperm." 

The look on Snape's face was murderous. "That wretched woman - she _trapped_ you into marrying her?" 

"No, it's not like that," Harry said hastily, grabbing Snape's arm before he could storm off and do something foolish, like hex the nearest Weasley. "She _asked_ me to be the donor, and I agreed. Once we knew it took and she was past the miscarriage state, we announced our engagement." 

"Why?" Snape asked bluntly. 

"Because Ginny is a friend," Harry said simply. "And because she plays on our team. She's been with another girl since school, and they wanted to have a child together." 

"Who?" Snape demanded. 

Harry sighed. "Susan Bones." 

Snape thought back, associating names with faces. "Hufflepuff. Your year, as I recall. Smart girl, tough as nails. One of my better students as a matter of fact, didn't mind the more disgusting ingredients." He frowned. "But why marriage and why you?" 

Harry leaned his backside against the railing and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a bit of an involved story." 

"If it involves you, I'm not surprised," Snape said with a smirk. 

"Ginny's family has been pressuring her to find a nice boy, to settle down and have a family. Seems that Molly and Arthur have been looking forward to being grandparents, and although Bill and Fleur have the two girls, they've settled in Egypt. Charlie's a confirmed bachelor, Percy's dead, and the Twins are too busy with their business for marriage or a family right now. Ron and Hermione are engaged, but she's still in school. So Ginny's their main hope right now, and they can't imagine why she hasn't married already. 

"My friends are pushing me to get married, too, and the older I get, the more suspicious it looks that I'm not even _dating_. Hell, my coach practically _ordered_ me to get married. Seems the publicity people think that stories of Harry Potter going home to the wife and little ones will bring out more spectators." He snorted in disgust. "Anyway, neither of us can do what we _really_ want, and she and Susan want a child, so it seemed the ideal solution." 

"I doubt Ms. Bones will find you and Ms. Weasley sharing a bed to be 'ideal'," Snape said dryly. 

"We won't be sharing a bed. In fact, I'll be sleeping in the spare room, whenever I'm home, which isn't often during Quidditch season." Harry looked back out over the garden. "No one will think it odd if Ginny's best friend stays with her, to keep her company since I'm away so often, especially with the baby coming. Only Ginny, Susan and I will know which of us is sleeping in the master bedroom, and which in the spare." 

"So you are, in fact, each other's beard, is that it?" Snape said, then frowned. "Why did you tell me all this? Certainly, it isn't because you value me as a confidant to whom you can unburden yourself. In fact, why did you invite me to the wedding?" 

Harry turned and looked at him. "I thought you had a right to know, about the baby." 

"Harry, any _rights_ I might have had ended five years ago, by mutual consent," Snape said sharply. "Or is that it? You want to take up where we left off, want me to be your bit on the side? Sorry, but I have finally managed to gather my pride, and I have too much self-respect to allow that to happen." 

"Self respect?" Harry said with a bitter laugh. He turned back to garden, and his hands were clenched so tightly on the banister that his knuckles were white. "I'm afraid I don't know what that is anymore. Some days, I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. I haven't had a lover since you. Can't bloody well risk it, can I? Even if I was into one-offs, which I'm not, my partner would run off to the _Daily Prophet_ before the sheets were even cold. Once word got out that Harry Potter is gay, my life would be worth bugger all." 

Snape moved to stand next to Harry at the railing, and he glanced sideways at the young wizard before looking away again. The garden looked oddly peacefully by moonlight, and he thought about putting in a garden behind the cottage. Something more than the herb beds for his potions, something decorative and soothing. 

"I know what it's like, Harry, and probably better than you could ever imagine." He drew in a deep breath. "Did you never wonder why I just quit teaching and left Hogwarts?" 

Harry shrugged. "I assumed that, with the war over, you couldn't get shut of the place fast enough. You never made it a secret that you hated teaching." 

"No," Snape said quietly. "But I loved Hogwarts. It had been my only home for...well, more years than I care to remember." He turned to face Harry. "Albus found out - about you and me." 

Harry's face turned white. That last time they'd been together...Snape had always insisted they conduct their liaisons away from Hogwarts, but it had been almost a month since they'd seen each other, what with the post-war mop-up. Harry had shown up in Snape's rooms and jumped him, not giving him a chance to protest. And after a few minutes, Snape had given in and stripped both of them, tumbling them onto his large bed, where they had remained for the rest of the night. 

"Damn." 

Snape nodded. "He knew about my...preferences when I returned to Hogwarts, and one of his conditions regarding my parole into his care after the first war was that I try to cultivate 'normal' appetites or, if I couldn't, at least not indulge in that one on school grounds. He came to me the next day and told me that I had the option of resigning quietly or getting the sack, and that I had to break it off with you or he'd go to the Ministry. You know how our kind is regarded by the Ministry - it would have ruined your future, and I might have been sent to Azkaban." 

Harry was quiet, remembering their meeting two days after the last time they'd been together. Snape had told him that he was resigning from Hogwarts to take up a research position elsewhere. He had been cool but not cruel, pointing out that with Harry being signed to England's Quidditch team and Snape's new job, it would be difficult for them to continue meeting. In fact, it would be dangerous, should anyone discover that they were seeing each other. At the time, it had made sense to go their separate ways. It hadn't been a great love affair, after all, only friendship and fucking... 

He frowned. "Why didn't Dumbledore say anything to me?" 

Snape said blandly. "He assumed that I'd led you astray, that you were a victim of my perverted desires. He was...not happy with me." 

Harry heard the odd tone in Snape's voice, as if he was struggling with his emotions, and wasn't surprised. He knew that Snape had regarded Dumbledore in the light of a parental figure, had cared only for his approval or censure. It must have been a crushing blow, particularly since Dumbledore had died a few years later. Harry wondered if they had reconciled before the Headmaster's death but doubted it. "That's not fair! _I_ was the one who made the first move, who kissed you first!" 

Snape's lips twisted into a smile that wasn't pretty. "Ah, but you were the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, so you couldn't possibly want something as disgusting as sex with a man. Not like a slimy, perverted Slytherin. If he hadn't been worried about the scandal, I daresay the Headmaster would have seen me tossed into Azkaban for daring to touch you." 

Harry looked at Snape shrewdly. "There _wasn't_ a research position, was there?" Snape shook his head, and Harry looked appalled. "What have you been doing for the last five years, then?" 

"Writing, mostly," Snape said. "Books about potions, the dark arts not under my own name, of course. My last book was on the NonFiction best seller's list for three months." At Harry's chagrinned look, he smirked. "What? Imagining me living in some tumbledown shack on the back of beyond with only a pittance to live on? Sorry to disappoint." 

Harry lifted his chin. "Well, you obviously don't live in a bustling metropolis since you only _just_ got the invitation." 

"I _do_ live in the back of beyond, but it's a comfortable little place on top of a rather nice hill. It has all the modern conveniences - cooker, indoor plumbing and all. As to the mail - I've had all my mail redirected to a Muggle post office box in the nearest town, and I collect it whenever I go into town, which isn't often. Once a month or so." He shrugged. "It suits me. I like being away from people - it helps me think." 

Harry gave him an appraising look, liking what he saw. "It does. You look much better than you did last time I saw you. Healthier, at any rate. Must be all that fresh country air." 

Snape glared at him and watched Harry grin back, unrepentantly. A reluctant smile tugged his lips. "Brat. Are you checking me out, then?" 

"Any objections if I am?" Harry returned, insolently. 

"I would think that the future Mrs. Potter might object," he said quietly. "Or does she know about me?" 

"She knows," Harry replied. "I told you, we're _friends_. The only one I could really talk to about...things." Harry looked away, his face sad. "I really didn't invite you here to proposition you. I thought - considering what we were to each other once - that you deserved better than hearing about it in the paper. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable." 

Snape turned away to stare over the gardens again. "Potter...Harry. I appreciate the thought, and the offer, but..." He sighed and shook his head. "I can't live like that anymore. I spent too much of my life pretending to be someone else, sneaking about, always worried about who would see me at the wrong place at the wrong time. I gave all that up when we killed Voldemort." He looked at Harry. "Tempting as your offer is, I haven't got the energy for that kind of life anymore. I may not be happy - and I don't deny that I miss sex like I'd miss my right hand - but I'm...content." 

Harry's lips twisted into a grimace and he sighed heavily. "I understand. I - I'm glad you've found that, then. Maybe some day I will as well." 

"Good luck, Harry," Snape said, sincerely, then turned and walked away before he did something stupid. Like change his mind. And he tried to ignore the feeling that he had left something important behind. 

* * *

Part 2: Harry 

Harry woke up with the distinct feeling that something had made a nest in his mouth...and then died. He considered dying himself, then remembered that he had too many commitments to die now. Not that it would do any good - They would probably find a way to revive him out of sheer spite. 

He groaned and flailed a hand in the direction of the night table, reaching for the bottle he'd set there the previous night. Or rather, earlier that morning - the too-bright glare from the windows made him think that it still must be day, at any rate. Of course, _which_ day was the question - he sincerely hoped it was the same day, or Ginny would be seriously ticked with him about missing the rehearsal. 

Finally locating the hangover potion, he swallowed it in one go, then lay back and waited for the world to return to some semblance of normalcy. What in hell had he been thinking? he wondered, getting drunk like that. Hell, he _hadn't_ been thinking - or had been trying _not_ to think. Seeing Severus again after so many years...well, he hadn't been prepared for the ache he had felt deep inside. It wasn't supposed to _be_ like this, dammit! He had expected to feel a residual fondness for the surly bastard, perhaps share a smile and a few memories with his former lover, but not _this_. Not the feeling that he was breathing with only one lung. 

Resolutely, he pushed himself up from the bed and headed towards the bath. It was the alcohol, he told himself firmly. Drinking always made him maudlin. A hot shower, a cup of coffee, and he'd be feeling better in no time. 

Right. 

Feeling oddly melancholy for a man a day away from his wedding, Harry Apparated into London and slowly walked up the steps of the terrace house he and Ginny had recently purchased. The door was unlocked and the wards were down, and he frowned as he secured both behind him. 

"Ginny?" he called out. The mostly empty rooms echoed hollowly. "Where are you? And why did you leave the place unlocked and unwarded?" 

A red head appeared over the banister. "Up here, Harry. You must come and see - the furniture for the baby's room's just arrived, only Susan's having a bugger of a time putting the cot together. Do you mind?" 

Harry sighed and pulled off his jacket, draping it over the banister before starting up. "Don't know that I'll be much help." He entered the nursery and whistled at the sight of wood and metal scattered about the room. "What a bloody mess!" 

"I _told_ you he wouldn't be able to help, Ginny," Susan said, looking up briefly to smile at Harry. "Harry's all thumbs, aren't you, love?" 

"That's not what Coach says," Harry said, grinning. 

"Polishing his broom behind the shed, are we?" 

"I wish," Harry retorted. "He's not a bad looking sort. I wouldn't mind having a romp with him, not by half." 

"So is he...?" Susan asked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

"No, more's the pity," Harry said, sighing. "Goes home to the wife and kiddies every evening we're in town..." 

" _That_ doesn't mean anything," Ginny replied, resting one hand on her slightly rounded abdomen. 

"...and chases every pretty skirt when we're on the road." 

"There's your answer," Susan said, fitting together something that looked like an oversized spring onto a large rod. "Wear a dress." 

"Of course - why didn't I think of that?" Harry said, smacking his forehead. "Lend me one of yours? You're more my size than Ginny." He watched her apply lubricating oil to the spring. "You know, that looks absolutely indecent. Should you be doing that in front of the baby?" 

Susan made an even more indecent gesture at him. Harry grinned and Ginny smacked him on the arm. 

"Don't encourage her, Harry." 

"At least the baby will be getting the proper father image - wait, does Susan watch soccer in her underwear and scratch her belly?" 

"No, but I go round the pub every night to lift a pint with my mates," Susan teased. "And I belch loudly. Will that do?" 

Harry laughed and Ginny rolled her eyes at the pair of them. 

"Harry, if you can't help with the cot, at least give me a hand with the border," Ginny said, dragging him over to a box where several rolls of wallpaper border were sitting. "Which do you think would look better against the butter-cream paint? The pink and blue lambs or the yellow and green ducks?" 

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "It's a _stereotype_ , Ginny. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I have a flair for decorating or instinctively know how to put together colour schemes." 

"No, it just means he doesn't like snatch," Susan said. 

"Susan Bones!" Harry said with mock indignation. "Do you kiss your - Ginny with that mouth?" He'd started to say "mother", only to belatedly remember that Voldemort had killed most of Susan's family during the first war. 

"Of course I kiss my Ginny's mouth with it," Susan said blandly, ignoring his near faux pas. "And I also kiss her - " 

"Harry," Ginny interrupted, grabbing Harry by the arm. "You really _must_ see the latest gift we've received." 

"Must I?" Harry groaned, turning a pleading look at Susan as Ginny dragged him toward the doorway. Susan just grinned and waggled her fingers at him, and then swore as the bracket in her hand slipped. 

" _Yes_ ," Ginny insisted as she pushed him towards the stairs. "Honestly, when the two of you get together, I never know _what's_ going to happen!" 

"I _like_ Susan," Harry protested. "She's the brother I never had." Ginny snorted. "Just as well that I do, isn't it? Think how awkward it would be if we hated each other." Ginny shuddered and Harry slipped an arm around her waist. "All right, you'd best show me what monstrosity we've received now." 

Ginny led the way into the formal dining room, which currently held only a long cloth covered table with a display of wedding presents, each with the card carefully presented. She picked up a large golden _thing_ and handed it to Harry, and he stared at it for a long moment. 

"Well," Harry said cautiously. "It's _big_. And _shiny_. And - what in hell do you suppose it's for?" 

Ginny giggled. "Well, Susan had a thought. With enough lubricant..." 

"And we'll not go there," Harry said hastily. 

Ginny laughed and Harry joined in, then she smiled as she reached out to push a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "It's good to hear you laugh," she said softly. "You haven't done much of it lately." 

"Sorry," Harry said apologetically. "I didn't mean to be a crashing bore." 

"You're not," Ginny said quickly. "It's just that.... You're not exactly _happy_ , are you, Harry?" 

"No," Harry said with a sigh. 

"Is it the wedding?" she asked anxiously. "Are you having second thoughts?" 

Harry leaned against the wall and slid down it till he was sitting on the floor. "No. At least, not that in particular." He tugged her down beside him. "It's my whole bloody _life_ , Gin. Even playing Quidditch has stopped being fun. I'd quit, but I don't know what else to do with my life." 

"You know that you can do anything you want, Harry," Ginny said, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. 

"Yeah. Speaking of which," he said with an attempt at lightness. "I ran into Snape at the party last night. Well, not exactly _ran into_ \- I invited him and he actually came." 

"Severus Snape at a bachelor party?" Ginny said, grinning. "I'd have paid to see that." 

"He didn't stay for much of the party. I - well, I wanted to tell him about us, and the baby, before he reads it in the _Prophet_." He snorted. "Turns out he doesn't even _get_ the paper! He's living on top of a bloody mountain in the wilds of Scotland, writing _books_ of all things! _And_ selling them, under another name." 

"No, really?" Ginny asked, her grin widening. "Let me guess - 'Potion Making for Morons', right?" 

"Didn't ask, but I wouldn't be surprised," Harry agreed. "Anyway, seeing him - well, it brought back so many memories...." 

"Good ones?" Ginny asked gently. She knew a little about his past, not the details, just that he and Snape had been lovers for a while. 

"Mmm," Harry said, nodding. He gave her a crooked smile. "It wasn't a great romance, like you and Susan. We just - fell into it, I suppose. It started following one of the skirmishes with the Death eaters just after I'd left school. I'd used the killing curse for the first time, and I went up into the hills overlooking Hogwarts, to think about how I felt about that. Somehow he knew...I looked up and he was just standing there, looking at me with that inscrutable look he gives you just before he either blasts your ego to pieces or says 'Well, you didn't screw up too badly this time, Potter.' " Ginny chuckled at his imitation of Snape's voice. 

"Anyway, he said, 'Despite what they say, Potter, it doesn't get any easier. Not if you still have a soul. As long as you feel that pain afterward, you know you're still sane.' And I looked up at him and said, 'What about you, Professor? Do _you_ feel the pain?' His mouth twisted up and he said, 'Every damn day, Harry.' And he looked so...." Harry shrugged. "So I pulled him down on the grass and snogged him silly. Still not sure why, it was just that look on his face." 

"Why'd you break up?" 

Harry sighed. "At the time, I thought it was a mutual decision. We weren't seeing each other very often - well, you know how dangerous that would have been. I'd just signed onto the England team, he was leaving Hogwarts to pursue other things, and it seemed for the best. It wasn't like we were in love...at least, I don't think we were. I just found out that the _real_ reason was Dumbledore had found out and blackmailed Severus into calling it off." 

Ginny caught her breath, her eyes wide with fear. "Harry! Do you think he told anyone about you?" 

Harry shook his head. "Severus says the Headmaster thought he'd seduced me, not the other way around." He grimaced. "I was his golden boy, after all. He wouldn't risk harming my reputation." 

"And Snape?" she asked gently. "How did he feel about that?" 

"How do you think?" Harry asked bitterly. "If there was anyone that Severus loved, it was Dumbledore. To be cast out by him must have hurt like hell. Still does, although he didn't say anything; I could just tell." 

Ginny's lip twisted a little. "Hell having a lover who's the silent, stoic type, isn't it?" 

Harry couldn't help smiling a little at that. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call Snape _silent_ , and he's not my lover. Not any more." 

He fell silent, tracing a finger over the engagement ring Ginny wore. Susan had gone with him to purchase it, had picked it out and paid for it. Then she'd had to stand back and watch while Harry slid it on Ginny's finger in front of the entire Weasley clan at their engagement party. She'd disappeared shortly after that, and he'd found her in the kitchen, helping refill food platters like the stoic Hufflepuff she was, but Harry could have sworn she'd been crying. 

"Ginny, do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were... different?" 

"You mean, if being homosexual weren't against the law?" 

"It's not - " Harry began. 

"It might as well be," Ginny pointed out. "You know as well as I do that you'd never play Quidditch again _anywhere_ if they found out you were gay, nor get any other job in the Wizarding world - Savior of it or not. And my family would have me in St. Mungo's 'reeducation program' before I could say 'lesbian'." She gave a derisive snort. "Werewolves have more rights than we do, and that's not saying much." 

Harry sighed. "Yeah," he agreed. "But do you ever think about it?" 

"All the time." Ginny's eyes misted. "You should have seen Susan's eyes when she saw me in my wedding gown at the last fitting. She looked so - so _proud_ , so happy. I would give _anything_ to be walking down the aisle to marry her. _Anything_." She coloured slightly. "Sorry, Harry. Didn't mean to hurt your feelings." 

Harry shook his head. "It's all right. I understand." 

"Are you - do you want to marry Sn- um, Severus?" Ginny asked. 

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "We didn't spend that much time together - whatever minutes or hours we could grab between missions. I doubt we've been together as much as two days all told during the entire three years we were lovers. I don't know if we could live together. But - I'd like to be able to find out." 

Ginny leaned her head against his. "I wish I could take Susan with me to family gatherings, like Bill takes Fleur, and have everyone accept that she was my spouse, not just my best friend. I wish my parents could know how _wonderful_ she is. It scares me when I think what could happen if one of us got hurt or sick, at not being allowed in Hospital with her because we're not 'family'." Tears started running down her cheeks. 

Harry put his arm around her shoulder. "I know," he said softly. 

"Hey," said a voice from the doorway. "Starting the orgy without me?" 

Harry held up his free arm. "Got a place saved just for you, mate." 

Susan snorted as she sat down beside him, wrapping one arm around his waist and reaching out with the other to take Ginny's hand. "The ultimate male fantasy - one man and two women." 

"The ultimate _straight_ male fantasy," Harry corrected. "Mine is more like - the Twins and a bucket of lube." 

"Ew!" Ginny said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Those are my _brothers_ you're talking about." 

"Yeah," Harry said with a mock lustful sigh. 

"Twit," Susan said, whapping him in the chest, although her eyes were fixed on her lover's face. "And what have you been doing to make Ginny cry?" 

"Nothing," Ginny said, managing a tremulous smile. "Just - you know \- pre-wedding nerves." 

"Right," Susan said. She squeezed Ginny's hand and released it, then pushed herself up from the floor and held out a hand to Ginny. "Come upstairs and have a lie-down before you give yourself a headache. I'll put a wet flannel over your eyes." Ginny readily let Susan pull her to her feet, and Susan gave Harry a mock glare. "As for you, Potter, shove off." 

"Aye, aye, sir!" Harry said, snapping a salute at her, then grinned as Susan gave him a less polite salute back. He watched them slowly climb the stairs, their arms around each other's waists, and felt an envious lump in his throat. 

Feeling even more melancholy than he had when he arrived, Harry put on his jacket and went outside. He locked and warded the door behind him, then began slowly walking towards town, not sure where he was going but feeling an odd yearning for Scotland... 

* * *

Harry stared at himself in the mirror. No, _glared_ would be a better word for what he was doing. The kind of glare that would have done his old Potions master proud. He just couldn't go out into that church looking like this. No matter what he did with his hair, it just wouldn't lie down flat, not unless he greased it and pulled it back into a ponytail. And he was half tempted - only Ginny would kill him. No, Ginny would be fine with it. _Molly_ would kill him. And what was with the _shine_ on the button placket of his robe? The way the light bounced off it, you'd think he had a mirror there. He paused for a minute in his internal rant: there was a thought - use a mirror and signal to be rescued from this circle of Hell he was in. 

The door to the changing room opened, and Ron walked in, grinning from ear to ear. He looked thoroughly happy - and right at this moment, Harry sincerely hated him. 

"You'll never guess who's out there?" Ron announced. " _Snape_. Walked in, cool as you please, invitation in hand. _And_ he's sitting on _your_ side of the church, if you please! Probably going to hex you right as Ginny's coming down the aisle." 

"Anti-hex spells on the entire church property," Harry reminded him, frowning at his reflection even more. "Remember?" 

"Good thing, too. Some of the women in the audience are very upset that you're off the market." Ron peered at his best friend even closer. "You all right, Harry? You're looking a bit off-colour." 

"I'm fine," Harry snapped. "Perfectly fine." 

"Well, don't bite my head off!" Ron said, affronted. "I was just worried about you." 

Harry sighed. "Sorry, Ron," he apologized. "Nerves, you know." 

"Know what you mean," Ron said with a sigh. "Hermione's started mentioning dates and places - she graduates this summer, you know. Wants to put in a year at the Ministry first, then get married next summer. Only I don't know if I'm ready for that." He snorted. "What am I talking about - look at you, getting married _and_ becoming a father all at once. And I never even knew you fancied Ginny like that. 'Course she's had a crush on you for _years_." 

"Isn't it about time to start?" Harry said desperately. The last thing he wanted to endure was another Weasley inquisition about him and Ginny. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been surprised - shocked, even - when they'd told them the news but they'd been decent about it. But Ginny had been with him then, and she'd remembered every bit of the story they'd decided on, while Harry's brain had seemed to turn to mush. 

There was a discreet knock on the door and Ron grinned. "There's the signal. Ready, Harry?" 

"As I'll ever be," Harry muttered, and followed Ron out of the room. 

The church appeared to be filled to capacity with people but Harry was immediately aware of only one person sitting among the crowd. He deliberately didn't look in Snape's direction, instead focusing his attention on the back door where his bride would soon be entering. 

The music started and Harry watched as the bridesmaids, Hermione and Fleur, decorously made their way down the aisle toward him. Susan was next, as Maid of Honour, and Harry thought that she looked paler than usual, and strained about the eyes. _Well, who wouldn't be, watching her lover being married off to another person?_ he thought. Despite the fact that this was _her_ plan, it had to be wrenching to watch it happen, to know that - legally - she was losing Ginny forever. Their eyes met; he gave her an encouraging half-smile and Susan gave him a discreet "thumb's up" in return. 

The music swelled, and as the bride entered the church, all eyes turned to her. And Ginny looked beautiful, Harry had to admit, even if he wasn't wired that way. Still, there was something about her eyes, just like Susan's: a lack of sparkle that should be there on this day of all days. 

Ginny reached his side and he took her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze in reassurance, and then they both turned to face the minister. He and Ginny had tried to convince her parents that they wanted a small, non-religious garden wedding, but the Weasleys were staunch members of the CoE and had insisted on a church wedding. Now, facing the minister, and hearing him talk about how serious marriage was and "not to be entered into lightly", Harry knew that this was a mistake. A complete, horrible, and disastrous mistake. 

It wasn't that he feared God would strike him down with a lightning bolt for defaming his solemn wedding vows. Harry wasn't sure if he even believed in a God, but if he did, he was sure that He would be more understanding of the situation. No, it was just that he realized, now that the minister was asking him if he would take this woman to be his lawfully wedded wife, that Snape was right. 

He couldn't do this anymore. This lying about who he was, pretending to be the person everyone else wanted him to be, doing what everyone expected him to do. He'd spent the first twenty-five years of his life doing what everyone else wanted, and he just _couldn't_ spend the next hundred or so years doing the same. 

He looked into Ginny's eyes and saw the panic reflected there as well, and he knew that she was having the same reservations that he was. A hush had fallen over the crowd as the wait for his response lengthened. He drew in a deep breath. 

"I can't," he said. He was surprised that his voice was steady because he was shaking so badly inside that he was sure everyone could hear him. But the sudden gleam in Ginny's eyes gave him courage, and he turned to face the expectant crowd. His eyes locked on one face in particular. "I can't," he repeated. "because I'm gay." 

Molly stood up, a flustered look on her face. "Well, we're all very happy, too, dear, but I don't understand why that would stop you from marrying Ginny." 

"You don't understand," Harry said, wishing that this was over with. "I'm a homosexual. I prefer men." He turned and looked at Ginny and said, softly, "I'm sorry, Ginny." 

"You can't possibly be gay!" Molly protested. "Ginny's having your baby!" 

There was an excited murmuring among the crowd at that news; the family had planned to keep it quiet until Ginny was definitely showing. Harry could see the cameras flashing and Quick Quotes Quills were flying over pads at the back of the church. 

"Unless you're saying it's not your baby," Arthur added, giving Harry an out. 

"It's my baby, but it's not...we didn't..." He looked apologetically at the family. "Of course I'll support Ginny and the baby, but I can't marry her." Looking back at Snape he said, "It wouldn't be honest." 

The blow that knocked him to the ground seemed to come from nowhere. Harry lay on the floor, rubbing his aching jaw and tasting blood in his mouth, and stared up at a furious Ron Weasley. 

"You _bastard_!" Ron yelled. "You queer, fucking bastard! What, Ginny was a one-off? An experiment? To see if you could get it up for a girl as well as a boy?" 

"Mr. Weasley!" the minister said, scandalized. 

Ron ignored him. "And now you're just going to toss her aside, like _garbage_? Not bloody likely!" 

Ginny was kneeling on the floor beside Harry and she glared up at Ron even as she looked for something to staunch the bleeding of Harry's lip. Susan pressed a handkerchief into her hand and, after an expressive look of thanks, Ginny turned back to Harry. He took the offered cloth and, assured that Harry was all right, Ginny stood back up and rounded on Ron, proving that she'd inherited more than just the Weasley red hair. 

"Idiot!" she snarled at him. "How _dare_ you make accusations like that when you don't know a bloody thing about the situation!" Molly made a distressed noise at her daughter's swearing, and Ginny turned her attention to her mother. "Harry's been a perfect gentleman about the whole thing, and I _won't_ have him treated like this. The truth is, I _asked_ him to be my baby's father. And no, Ron Weasley, it wasn't a 'one-off' - we went to a Muggle practice where they specialize in helping lesbians who want to have babies." 

Molly gasped and sank back down into her seat, half-swooning. Ginny lifted her chin defiantly and reached for Susan's hand. "That's right, Mother. I'm a lesbian. Susan and I have been together for seven years, and we plan on spending the rest of our lives together. When you kept pushing me to find a nice boy and have babies...well, Susan thought up this plan. It wasn't what we _really_ wanted, but we'd have made do, only Harry," and she turned to smile down at him, "Harry was too brave - and foolish - to go through with a lie." 

Harry thought he heard a familiar voice mutter, "Typical idiotic Gryffindor." Despite the pain, he found himself smiling just a little. 

Ginny was clutching onto Susan's hand, white-faced but determined as she stared down her parents. "And I'm sorry if you can't accept that I love Susan instead of Harry, because I love both of you very much. But if you can't accept what I am, then that's too bad, because I'm not giving her up." 

She turned to Ron and in a fierce and determined voice said, "Give me the rings, Ron." Stunned at the sudden turn of events, he dropped the wedding rings into her hand and then stormed down the aisle and out of the church. 

Ginny ignored him, turning to Susan. "I don't care about their stupid laws and their stupid prejudices," she said, and took Susan's hand in hers. "I, Ginny, take thee, Susan, to be my wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and health, till death do us part, and hereto I plight my troth." She slid the ring intended for Harry onto Susan's finger, then lifted her hand and kissed it. 

Susan's chin wobbled distinctly for a moment, then firmed as she replied, in a low but resolute voice, "And I, Susan, take thee, Ginny, to be my wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and health, till death do us part, and hereto I plight my troth." She slid Ginny's ring onto her finger, then brushed a kiss across Ginny's lips. "I love you." 

Ginny kissed her back. "I love you, too. Let's go home." 

Harry, who had propped himself up on his elbows, watched for a moment as the two women walked down the aisle, heads held high, defiantly staring down the stunned crowd, and then he let himself slowly collapse back onto the floor. His jaw throbbed although his lip seemed to have stopped bleeding, and his head ached from where he'd hit the floor when he was knocked down. 

"Harry, are you all right?" 

He looked up at Hermione who was looking down at him in concern, her bridesmaid's bouquet still clutched in her hand. Around them, he could hear the sounds of people leaving - no doubt eager to spread the news to the rest of the Wizarding world. He groaned. 

" 'm fine, just going to lie here and rest a bit," Harry said. 

"For how long?" she asked, sounding slightly exasperated. 

"Oh, I don't know," he said vaguely. "I don't really have any place else to go. Don't suppose I have a job anymore. Gave notice at my flat and packed everything up, so I can't go back there. Don't think Susan and Ginny will want me hanging about the house, especially tonight. Can't stay in the Wizarding world anymore - maybe I'll put on a disguise and go live among the Muggles for awhile." 

"If I might make a suggestion, Mr. Potter?" 

Snape's face appeared opposite Hermione's, and the expression on his face was his usual scowl. Even upside down, Harry thought he'd never seen anything sexier. 

"And that would be?" he asked, trying to suppress his smile. 

"You might stay with me. There is ample room in the cottage, and lots of open space outside for flying and thinking. There's only one slight problem: I'd been considering adding on a spare room but never got around to doing it, so there's only the one bed, but I suppose we could manage." 

Harry gave up, letting a smile fill his face. "I suppose we could give it a go. I want the right side of the bed." 

"As I prefer the left, that is acceptable," Snape said, holding out his hand. Harry put his hand into Snape's and let the man pull him up, right against his chest. 

They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, Harry only vaguely aware of Hermione's murmured, "Good luck, both of you. I'll be in touch." He nodded in return, all of his attention focused on Snape. 

Snape reached out to run a healing finger over Harry's lip. "Foolish Gryffindor," he murmured. 

"I was only following _your_ lead," Harry protested. "Remember all that stuff you said about not living a lie anymore?" 

"I was obviously delusional - or you were drunk and misheard me." 

"Right," Harry said, grinning, and leaned forward to brush his lips over Snape's. "Let's go home." 

* * *

Epilogue: Together 

Snape had just finished placing the groceries in the cold box and was sitting down to sort through the mail when a pair of warm arms wound around his neck and soft lips brushed against his cheek. He grimaced at the feel of day-old stubble on his lover's face. 

"Well?" 

"Very well, indeed," Harry said, releasing him and moving around to take the other chair at the table. "James Arthur Weasley-Bones was born a little over three hours ago, at a healthy 7 pounds, 2 ounces. Mother and baby are doing well, although I thought his _other_ mother was going to punch out the midwife once or twice." 

Snape snorted at that; like his partner, he was rather fond of Ms. Bones' irreverent tongue, although he found Ginny Weasley to be rather insipid and boring. "Not Harry?" 

Harry ran his fingers through his damp hair, and Snape reflected that he'd obviously been home long enough for a shower. Pity; after that walk, he could use a shower, and he'd become rather accustomed to shared ones. Only because Harry could reach that certain spot between his shoulder blades, of course. 

"Not exactly politic, considering I'm persona non gratis in the Wizarding world at the moment, although Ginny was all for thumbing her nose at everyone. Susan convinced her otherwise, and 'James' was a concession." 

"Do I take it that the senior Weasleys are extending the olive branch on the occasion of the birth of their first grandson?" 

"Something like that," Harry agreed. "They weren't half-pleased to see _me_ there, but Susan pointed out that I had more right than she did, being the biological father. Hermione's working on that, by the way. Turned down the Ministry's original job offer and she's now working for the Department of Minorities and Magical Beings as Special Legal Counsel. She says she's determined to get your pension reinstated and compensation from my old team for breaking my contract, as well as having our citizenship reinstated." 

Snape snorted. "She'll have better luck getting _Lupin_ full citizenship." 

Harry grinned. "Ah, but there was an article in paper just today - and we really should think about taking it up again. The Ministry repealed the Anti-werewolf regulations. Not full citizenship _yet_ , but it's a start." Casually, he added, "Now that we've got that spare room, I invited Remus to visit, and he's coming next Saturday to spend a week. All right?" 

Snape frowned. "This is _your_ house, too. You may invite whomever you wish." 

Harry grinned. "Thanks." His grin faded. "Ron was there, too. He walked right out when he saw me - wouldn't even say hello." 

"He always was a prat," Snape muttered, but reached across the table to take Harry's hand. "Good thing Ms. Granger broke off that engagement." 

"Yeah, she said she couldn't live with a man who was so bigoted." He rubbed his thumb over the web between Snape's thumb and first finger. "Would - do you think Sirius..." 

"He would have understood," Snape said quietly. "He was one of us, after all." At Harry's surprised look, he said wryly, "I think it was at the root of that long quarrel between us. He was certain I wanted to take Lupin from him, while Lupin and I were merely friends." 

"Just friends, huh?" Harry said speculatively. "Maybe I shouldn't have him up next week, after all." 

Snape tugged on Harry's hand, and Harry let himself be coaxed onto Snape's lap. "You needn't worry. I am quite content with what I have." 

There was an unvoiced question in Snape's voice, and Harry smiled as he leaned forward to nuzzle Snape's neck. "As am I." 

"Then you don't regret the decision you made six months ago?" 

"Not at all. The only thing I regret," Harry said, pausing to bite down on Snape's neck and grinning as his lover moaned in pleasure, "is that I waited so long to come out." 

"Ah, but then you wouldn't have your wretched little brat, would you? Don't deny it - you are puffed up with masculine pride and will be quite the doting father," Snape said smugly. 

"Don't laugh. I offered our services as baby-sitters." Harry nipped at his lover's earlobe. 

"Potter!" Snape yelped. "I do _not_ baby-sit!" 

"I'll make it up to you," Harry said seductively, wriggling both his eyebrows and his arse. 

Snape moaned and grabbed Harry's head, forcing their mouths together in a rough, devouring kiss. "You'd better," he said hoarsely. 

"I will," Harry promised, unfastening Snape's shirt and kissing each bit of exposed flesh. "For each hour we spend watching James, I will repay you by being your devoted...sex...slave." 

Snape's body knew what to think of that, and he pulled Harry's head back up so he could kiss him again, grinding their groins together at the same time. After five years of celibate famine, the past six months had been a sensual and sexual feast, and he thought he'd never get enough of his young lover. He was almost glad that the world had ostracized them - it meant there were few distractions to take Harry from his side. 

"And what reward are you going to give me for tolerating Lupin's presence?" he asked, kissing along Harry's jawline and then nibbling on his ear. 

Harry pulled back and gave him a mock-angry look. "Now you're pushing it, Snape." 

"I'll show you 'pushing', Potter," Snape growled. In one swift movement, he stood up with Harry firmly clutched in his arms, strode across the cottage to the master bedroom, and dumped Harry onto the bed. He followed Harry down before he could even think of protesting, pinning his young lover with his weight. 

"I'm going to push myself into your tight arse," he said as he began working his way down Harry's chest, tasting every exposed inch and revealing more of his lover's body as he moved. "First with my fingers, then with my tongue, and finally with my prick. I'm going to make you come so many times tonight that you'll be limp for a week." 

"Braggart," Harry gasped. Secretly he thought that Snape could make him come from his voice alone, but he wasn't about to give the arrogant man further ammunition. 

"Not if it's true," Snape returned, and proceeded to demonstrate that his voice wasn't the only sinfully wicked part of his body. By the time he slid slowly into his lover's body, Harry had already come twice and was rising toward another climax. 

"Beautiful," Snape said, kissing Harry. "I love you, Harry." 

"I love you, too," Harry moaned. "For better or worse, the whole deal." 

"With my body I thee worship," Snape murmured as he slowly undulated above his lover's body, "and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." 

"Forever and ever," Harry gasped, feeling his body tighten one more time. "Till death do us part." 

"No," Snape said, pausing in his thrusts. He framed Harry's face with his hands. "I prefer the Old vows: to the gates of death and beyond." 

Harry could feel the prick of tears in his eyes and pulled Snape's head down to his, kissing him fiercely. His body exploded with exquisite pleasure, and he heard his lover gasp his name as his thrusts became more erratic. With a final moan that seemed to come all the way up from his toes, Snape thrust one last time and collapsed onto Harry's body. 

Harry didn't mind the weight pinning him to the bed, even though it made breathing a challenge. It was rather nice, he thought sleepily. He trailed his fingers through the dark, sweaty hair, ignoring Snape's sleepy protest, then kissed his sated partner's forehead. 

"To the gates of death and beyond," he murmured, and thought that sounded just about right. 

The End


End file.
